


a smile and one more reason

by ziena



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Seo Changbin, Cigarettes, Drunk Sex, First Time Bottoming, Hair-pulling, Idol Hwang Hyunjin, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Top Hwang Hyunjin, Under-negotiated Kink, Underground Rapper Seo Changbin, poppers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziena/pseuds/ziena
Summary: At three in the morning on a drunk Tuesday, Changbin stumbles out of the studio and into a tall, dark-hooded figure. After weeks of zigzagging, that’s how he and Hyunjin cross paths.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 85
Collections: SKZ Fuckfest





	a smile and one more reason

**Author's Note:**

> written for [skz fuckfest](https://twitter.com/s_k_zfukfest), for prompt **95**
> 
> title from [má intenção - sidoka](https://youtu.be/a-SrZiAffME)

At three in the morning on a drunk Tuesday, Changbin stumbles out of the studio and into a tall, dark-hooded figure. After weeks of zigzagging, that’s how he and Hyunjin cross paths.

“Did you win?” Hyunjin asks, voice fusing with bass that leaks from the supposedly soundproof door.

The yellow walls sway into place. “I usually do,” Changbin says. It’s not bragging if it’s true. He staggers a step back. “Just me and the boys tonight, though.” _The boys_ as in Chan and Jisung, battling. “For battling’s sake, I guess.” 

This hallway that stinks of spilled beer is no place for someone like Hyunjin. “You’re not leaving in a t-shirt, right? I’m not gonna let you,” Hyunjin threatens.

Snowflakes cascade like paper outside the vent-like window. “Chan says I need a smoke break to get a bit more agreeable.” He forces the lever open, disrupting the ice-crystals that crawl across the glass. “Do you?” Changbin asks, holding his pack of Parliaments in offer, just for the sake of offering. 

Hyunjin is a singer like Chan, and they don't.

But Hyunjin bows. “In here? Or—” And takes one. He pops the menthol crystal with his canine like it’s something people do.

Changbin frowns.

“At nights we can, yeah. We _can’t,_ but we do.” Changbin thumbs his lighter until a flame flickers and smoke mists the hallway. “Group disobedience,” he prompts, “is it really disobedience?”

“Nah.” Hyunjin grins, then plucks Changbin’s lit cigarette from his mouth to light his own with it. “My mom said that if breaking rules were compulsory, she’d break them,” he says, “I believe her. She’s so righteous, it’s insane.”

“What about you?” Cold nips at Changbin’s skin like fizzing pops of champagne. 

Hyunjin's fingers are scarred like Chan’s—from dancing with mics, maybe. Bleached-out spots embossed on Hyunjin’s otherwise perfect skin. 

"If everyone were thieves, the crime would be getting caught, I think. The question is, would I be?” Hyunjin smiles, eyes sweeping down the expanse of Changbin’s exposed arms. Caught? Or a thief? “Maybe I should record late more often,” he says. He motions at the studio. “Is this, like…usual?" 

Changbin scrapes his heel against the carpet, against a dark booze-stain. “On Tuesday nights we have this, um, this _thing_ here, yeah, I thought of inviting you, but…” They’re not that close, really. No one’s close with Hyunjin. In here. Not yet. “You could’ve walked in. Watched.”

“What were you celebrating? If someone’s drunk it’s a party.”

Changbin rests his cigarette hand on the windowsill. The raw skin of his thumbnail stings with the bite of metal. “Music, if anything.” That sounded weird. “Nothing, really.”

Hyunjin lowers his hoodie, cigarette resting on his lips the way they do in movies, dangling, the way no one smokes in real life because they will fall and burn you. “Jae said he’d come here straight from the airport, I had to meet him, so.” His long hair is pale and glossy the way hair never looks.

Changbin eyes the snow. No trail of footsteps, but he can pretend there is. “I think you might’ve missed him.”

“Nah, I saw him before I found you.”

“Were you watching me?”

“Mostly, like. Outside.” The studios have no windows. “Our song will be great, hey, I’m glad we’re partnering.” 

“Yeah,” Changbin says. Hyunjin was the one to reach out, and it took him changing labels after his idol contract ended for Changbin to believe his _hey, let’s make a song_. “I bet we might chart.” It’s not like Hyunjin hasn’t. Changbin, however, hasn’t. “I thought we’d meet during the day. At least, like, the first time,” he adds, as a cop-out.

“We can have a new meet-cute, let’s pretend it's the first one.” Hyunjin’s thread-earring loops from his lobule, catching the glint of the moon. “I thought it’d be weirder, honestly, I’m glad I found you drunk.” 

“Wow, that’s...” Changbin takes a step back, eyes wide. 

“ _Oh,_ no, no, _sorry…_ it’s just—you’re like, talking, you know?”

“I don’t talk...sober?”

Hyunjin hesitates, french-inhaling a lungful. No way that’s a phatic cigarette. Tricks require at least _one_ smoke with a mirror. And social smokers never do. “It’s harder for some people to deal with someone like me,” Hyunijn says, like it’s nothing. “Sometimes.”

A sliver of light bleeds from under the studio, where Jisung and Chan are still going at it. They’ve always been this frantic. Changbin’s a bit more feeble in that sense. In some manners. Yelling.

“Why are they yelling?” Hyunjin asks.

“It’s our way of cheering, I guess. What do you dancers do? When someone is impressive.”

Hyunjin exhales smoke through his nose. “We throw sneakers at them.”

 _“Sneakers?”_ Sounds violent. “What do singers throw, then? Mics?”

“That should be _your_ thing, yeah?” Hyunjin chuckles. “Like, mic-yeeting? Mic drops be damned. You should start a new trend on your _reels_ -thingy.”

Changbin laughs. Does Hyunjin watch his reels? “What if I yeet a mic and it, like, hits an eye? And kills you. The liability.”

“Hazards of the profession,” Hyunjin says, a smile on his lips. “Comes with the territory.” He pockets his hand. There’s a metallic click of keys.

“Are you going home already?” Changbin asks.

“You want a ride? I’m driving.”

 _Yes,_ he should say, _yes please_ , but Changbin doesn’t. _Take me home_. He can’t. “Jisung would kill me.” He puts out his cigarette on the windowsill and throws it back into the pack. No garbage cans. “You wanna join?” Changbin grips the lever door handle. He should open the door. “It’s your label now too, you know, just…walk in whenever.”

“Nah, I should go home.” Hyunjin pulls his hood up again, and its shadow obscures his face. “See you?”

“We’ll cross paths.” Changbin nods. “It’s not that big, this building, I can’t believe we hadn’t yet. You’re not a face I’d forget.”

Hyunjin laughs. He stubs out his cigarette, blowing his last puff of smoke. Jisung’s rap voice sounds loud even from outside the door. _Soundproof._ He’d hate to get back inside.

“Do you want to—” Changbin starts, but he can’t think of anything Hyunjin would want to do with him at three am. On a Tuesday. Wednesday? At the company, this hallway. Studios. Maybe Hyunjin does want to, “just, like, do something? Anything, really. My brain’s too fried to compose, but Jisung’s crashing at mine, so—as long as we stay in here? I just can’t leave the building.” His coat is being held hostage by Jisung. His keys. Phone. “I freestyled so much today I swear my thoughts sound verse-like.”

Hyunjin leans closer, face catching the moonlight. He’s eyeing Changbin quizzically. The buzz of heat from his warm clothes is the best thing Changbin could ask for. “I’d love to do _something_ with you, yeah. Where? Right now?” 

The studio is usually too big, yet it’s too small when Hyunjin’s there. Kind of how Changbin feels.

"Wanna go on a run?" Hyunjin asks. "Along the river? This morning." He blows up bubbles in his candy-crush-like game as he speaks. Changbin’s entertained. Hyunjin’s actually good at this Shopee game. High level. Hyunjin filmed an ad for them, he says, but he won’t show Changbin the video.

"A _run?"_

"Before the sun's out." Hyunjin glances at the closed door as if it were a window. "It's the best feeling ever. You hate it?"

"Yeah, I don't do running." Changbin frowns, head pulling back as his shoulders push forward. "Or mornings, really." Or this. Watching Hyunjin burst bubbles because he’s too burned too rhyme. 

"Why not?"

"I'd rather sleep."

Hyunjin’s eyes meet his. Did Changbin say something wrong? "Passing out from tiredness is so much more refreshing."

"I don't need to run to be tired.”

"You don't need to sleep just 'cause it feels good,” Hyunjin says. “But do you know what else would get you tired this morning if not for running?”

"Yeah, but. Unrelated." "Do you often run in the mornings?"

"When I have time to," Hyunjin says. He chuckles. It sounds weak.

"What?" Changbin asks.

"Never thought I'd have this much free time and this lack of things to do." "Maybe I should've been nicer to old friends."

It happens. "Make new ones."

"New what?"

"New friends. I'm Changbin, hey," he says, bowing respectfully at Hyunjin, who laughs.

"Is this our second meet-cute?"

"You ruined it."

"Oh, no..." Hyunjin says, dramatically. He drops to one knee and takes Changbin's hands between his. "Would you give me your hand in a _third_ meet-cute? I’ll make it worth it."

Changbin snorts, eyes squinting. He shoves Hyunjin back, a light touch that wouldn’t topple a baby, and still, Hyunjin drags him down by his wrist as he falls onto his ass, and Changbin has no choice but to follow. 

He fumbles for the ground but ends up on his knees, hovering over Hyunjin’s lap. “Fuck, hey, I’m sor—" But Hyunjin’s hands are on his waist and his eyes seem darker. _“Oh,_ ” Changbin says, heart double-timing. “Are you like that?”

Hyunjin’s brows lower. “You’re not?”

“I’m… I—" He’s shaking, slightly. He notices. “I mean, I—" Changbin looks at him, _looks_ at him, really. At the way they are too close to each other and Hyunjin’s lips seem even fuller from this close. 

“Do you want to?” Hyunjin’s voice seem breathless. Changbin rakes in a deep breath. “Do you?”

“I...haven’t,” Changbin says, like an echo. Hyunjin’s voice, his hands, pulling, and Changbin stops hovering and parts his thighs further and leans closer in.

“Tell me, yeah? Do you want to?” Hyunjin’s hands soothe up his back and they bunch up his t-shirt along with it. 

Right in that moment, all Changbin wants is to trace Hyunjin’s lips—even if it's for a second. He knows that it's greedy to want Hyunjin’s lips on his, even if it's just a drunk thing. 

He knows that it's greedy, but it's just a drunk thing, otherwise how else would he explain it? Explain how he reaches and traces Hyunjin's lips even if it's for a second. 

The line of his smile does shake up his heart a bit, and Hyunjin's eyes widen and there's no denying that, right in that moment, he's all Changbin wants, really.

Dizziness comes in waves. 

Changbin's breaths races as Hyunjin slides his hands up his torso with a pleased little, "your body..."

Changbin nods, smirking a bit. Not bragging. “Let me see you.”

Hyunjin is behind him, but Changbin’s kneeling on the sofa and Hyunjin’s not. "You’re so tense,” Hyunjin says, arm looped around his waist, other hand toying with his drawstring. He unties it, and Changbin swallows, almost out-of-bodily watching as Hyunjin's fingers slip in through the thick band. "Stay still for me," he says, and soothes his hand up Changbin’s torso, fingers massaging his muscles with such firmness each touch brushes deeper. A thrill runs through him. 

"Why?" Changbin’s also not sure why they’re whispering.

Hyunjin traces his nipple, fingers digging into his pecs like he wants indents. Changbin presses his hips back on instinct, but Hyunjin keeps him still.

"Let me take these off," Hyunjin says, nudging the band of his sweats down. His nails biting his skin a bit, and Changbin’s cock stirs. He chews on his lower lip, battling with modesty. Then, fuck it, he lets him, and suddenly he’s naked in the studio and Hyunjin's still fully clothed. He feels kind of exposed.

"What are we doing?" he asks. It takes all his self-restraint to keep himself from turning like Hyunjin told him not to.

"I just wanna touch you like this a bit," Hyunjin says. “Can I?” He hooks his chin on his shoulder, his shirt clinging against his back. Changbin grips the back cushion, body still upright enough not to make him feel like he’s on a display. "You’re gorgeous, fuck…”

Changbin swallows to keep his voice from shaking. "You too. Obviously."

"Flatterer." Hyunjin trails his lips to his ear. "Spread your legs for me, will you?" There’s something visceral about the way his lips brush Changbin's skin as he speaks. Changbin parts his knees further apart, so quickly the cashmere might chafe his skin. 

Changbin faulters. "Hey, Hyunjin, what—"

"Just think of it as a treat, yeah?" Hyunjin chuckles in his ear.

He fists Changbin’s cock, hand wet and slick with spit, and it tingles, and Changbin shivers, muscles tightening on their own. He drops his head back onto Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Feels good?" Hyunjin laughs. Changbin nods, mouth open, breathing through his teeth. Hyunjin teases him with a loose fist, sliding his other hand to his balls and massaging until Changbin’s head flashes white. "Touch yourself, now. Show me."

It catches him off guard. "What?"

Hyunjin grabs Changbin's free hand and wraps it around his own cock. It’s heavier and slicker than it’s been in so long. "Touch yourself," Hyunjin repeats. "Let me watch,” he says.

Changbin’s cock kicks. He strokes slowly, his breath catching as he tries not to think about the picture he makes like this. He keeps his eyes screwed shut.

"Talk to me," Hyunjin mutters, tracing the shell of his ear.

Changbin’s brain is short-circuiting. He can’t. "…good," he pants, strung-out.

"Is it?"

"Yeah..." he whispers, and something solid presses against the small of his back. Just the _possibility_ is enough to make him moan.

"Fuck, you look—" Hyunjin shakes his head. Changbin shudders, fingers digging in the cushioned seat. "Touch me," Hyunjin breathes, and Changbin’s heart jumps and he stops. Fuck. Waits for his nerves to dial down, because Hwang Hyunjin is behind him, and Changbin _can’t_ screw this up.

"Don't laugh if I suck,” he murmurs, breathing in deeply. After too long, he drags his hand from Hyunjin’s thigh. Up. Squeezes between his legs like Changbin’d never thought he’d do in his life. It fills his cupped palm. Might’ve filled both hands. Can’t close his fist. A syrupy feeling pools low on Changbin’s gut.

Hyunjin nips at his back. "You touch yourself just fine," he says, trailing his neck with wet lips, sliding a hand to brush against Changbin’s nipple, and tugging at it. His chest fizzles. 

Changbin eases Hyunjin's lined pants open and draw his cock out, as slowly as he can drag it. It’s heavy, tight skin sticky. Wet, almost. Smooth. He grips him but pauses, waits for permission. It feels like he needs it. Still, he can’t help a peek. Hyunjin’s cock swollen, its tip fully red. Glistening with precum that leaks from his slit and smears against the rim of his t-shirt. 

“You can touch...” Hyunjin says to him. Changbin says _fuck it_ , and fists Hyunjin’s dick, strokes it like he does to himself when he wants to come, when he’s already too worked up to care. His reward is a slow shiver, and Hyunjin’s hand on his hair. 

"Good, ah,” Hyunjin breathes, and Changbin’s heart pounds harder as he watches his own hand move. He twists his wrist on the upstroke, and the wet tip pokes the back his thigh, smearing his skin sticky and cold in the air of the studio. It doesn’t feel quite real. "You’re teasing,” Hyunjin mumbles, fingers tightening in his hair. The sharp sting does feel real. “Come on…"

Changbin thumbs the head, and Hyunjin stutters a breath, snapping his hips forward counter to Changbin’s hand, like his fist is a flashlight. Hyunjin tenses. "Ah—just… _harder._ "

Changbin’s hand drips with precum. Way more than he’s ever wet his own hands and that thought alone makes his head spin. He clenches his fingers harder than he ever grips himself and the response is immediate. Hyunjin’s sparse groaning turn into breathless panting, but the angle is all wrong. Changbin’s wrist aches.

Hyunjin drags a hand down to tighten it over Changbin’s and further control his pace. It feels dirty, his face burns. Hyunjin using his hand to jerk off. He moves his hips back and Hyunjin’s cock catches onto his rim and almost pushes inside a bit, just a little bit. Changbin’s thighs clench, as a spike runs up his spike. Hyunjin angles away but keeps pressing against him and his cock smudges precum into the meaty part of his ass.

Changbin kind wants it between his cheeks, just a little, just to see if he likes the way that it makes him feel.

He holds it against his entrance and Hyunjin instantly bristles, pinning Changbin down, bent over the upholstery. Changbin’s stomach drops at the feeling of being powerless like this, buzzing with Hyunjin’s weight draped over his back. The hot ridge of his cock nudges against him, and he clenches, his hole spasming, completely involuntary. Hyunjin must feel it, _has_ to, as he whispers, “you want it? Tell me.”

And Changbin’s stronger than him, he must be. But right now? “Just _do_ it, I’m—” he says. “Please?” He takes Hyunjin’s cock himself and guides it between his cheeks again.

“No— _babe_ , we gotta _prep_ you,” Hyunjin says, voice strained. 

“I— _yeah,_ I know, but just—"

“ _No_ , love, it’s gonna hurt you...” Hyunjin leans back, keeping him pinned down by a hand between his shoulder blades. “I’ve got poppers if you want to, but how much did you drink? You shouldn’t mix.”

Changbin’s cock pulses, forgotten, bobbing between his abs and the sofa. He thrusts just the tiniest bit, just to feel it. The scrape of his soft skin against the cashmere spreads little sparks of pleasure. “What?”

“Poppers, Jae brought me. Today. I asked him to.”

“Yeah?”

Hyunjin hesitates. “It…relaxes this muscle here.” He thumbs Changbin’s rim and pulls down against the muscle, and Changbin clenches like he can’t it go. “You’ve ever done anything?”

“With men?” 

“No. Uppers.” Hyunjin rotates his thumb, pushing it deeper and Changbin swallows to not choke on saliva.

“What do you mean?" 

Hyunjin pulls his finger out. “Even if I finger you, you can’t take my cock today, babe. Not on your first time.” 

“I’m not like, a virgin.” It’s hard to argue with logic, and Changbin’s too pent-up to try. “You’re trying to get me soft with this dirty talk? It’s working.”

“Do you want poppers? No need to, we could stick to hands, or I could, like, s—”

“Whatever.” Changbin splays his hand on the sofa and pushes himself up to his knees.  
“Where is it? I don’t even know what that looks like.”

Hyunjin hums, leaning back, turning around to shuffle for his brand bag that Changbin knows he’s left over the keyboard table. No need to stand up, but he stands up. Leaves Changbin cold. “You should know more about it first before you can decide if—”

“Nah,” Changbin grunts, mood ruined until Hyunjin’s hand is back on his hips. “Just tell me how,” he says.

Hyunjin squeezes his ass, his fingers sinking into his muscle, and slaps it just for the reprimand, just for the sound of skin. Changbin shudders, half arousal, half shame from the position. He rises to his knees to regain some dignity and plasters his back to Hyunjin’s clothed chest. “You like that?” Hyunjin asks, smirk so crystalline Changbin can hear it. So, he refuses to dignify him with any sort of a yes.

He hesitates. "Is it good, really?" Changbin asks.

"Spanking?” Hyunjin tries. “Poppers? Or—"

“…bottoming.” 

Hyunjin takes a moment to answer. “Yeah, it’s good. Sometimes it hurts. Doesn’t at all if you inhale. Hence why I bring it to clubs.”

“Clubs?” Changbin squints. “If I _breathe?_ ” He adds, and it sounds so stupid even to his own ears, he wants to take it back.

“ _No,_ shut up.” Hyunjin laughs, light and airy like Changbin hasn’t heard yet. “God, you’re so straight, baby.”

“Not…really, no.” Clearly.

“Not that big on gay culture, though, still.” Hyunjin drops a white vial onto the sofa, between Changbin’s legs. Then, he holds Changbin’s jaw and kisses him. “I’ll teach you the ropes.”

“Now? ‘cos you’re just standing there while I’m all—”

Hyunjin nips at his earlobe, lips sticky with Changbin’s own spit. "I’ll take it as slow as you want.” 

“I don’t want it slow, fuck you.” Changbin’s nostrils flare. Hyunjin presses two fingers to his lips, and Changbin does his best to wet them, spit dribbling all the way to his chin, damping Hyunjin’s fingers where he holds his jaw still. When Changbin opens his eyes, Hyunjin’s staring at him. 

Changbin dries his mouth with the trembling back of his hand, and it’s like Hyunjin wants to wet it all over again. He forces their lips together as he presses a slick finger to his rim, and Changbin’s whole face burns with brine when he clenches around it.

“Just tell me to stop, yeah?” Hyunjin murmurs so low Changbin feels more than hears it. “If you don’t like it,” he says, pushing the tip of his index further inside and Changbin’s whimper is stuck on his throat. “Fuck, you’re so tight...”

Changbin shuts his eyes so hard white lines expand on his lids. He grips his own cock and holds it still to the take the edge from it. Hyunjin breaches him bit by tiny bit, stopping to spit on his fingers before he adds in a second. He’s not fucking him as much as he’s pressing his walls open. 

When Hyunjin removes his fingers, this strange, new empty fluttering makes Changbin's cock pulse expectantly.

As Hyunjin unrolls an extra-lubed condom, Changbin grabs the white vial to distract him. It says, “Room Odorisor?"

"Ah," Hyunjin laughs. “Yeah, each brand has an excuse? Like, one says VHS cleaner, man, _why_ , at least pick something that’s still a thing.”

Changbin glances at him from behind his shoulder. "How do I…”

“Here,” Hyunjin smiles at him, blonde locks framing his face. Changbin unscrews the cap, then holds the bottle out to him. "Thanks.” Hyunjin rakes his hair back, fits his fringe behind his ears. He presses one nostril shut, brings the vial to the other. Inhales, then shuts his eyes. “It's a bit strong," he says, nose wrinkling. Kind of cute. I Dream of Jeannie. He passes the vial to Changbin and pecks him on the neck. “ _Please_ don’t touch the liquid, it's corrosive as fuck. And don’t inhale too hard, it might be too strong for y— ”

"It’s not too strong for you." Changbin holds it up curiously.

"I'm used to it, I—" Hyunjin hesitates. “Maybe sniff it from the cap? It’s safer for you."

Changbin rolls his eyes and the room spins with it. Before Hyunjin can stop him, Changbin thumbs his left nostril shut and inhales as hard as

_Strong._

_"Fuck,"_ he groans, eyes shut. Too artificial—it flares his nose all the way through. His throat, his tongue, palate. Fiery. Alcoholic down his bloodstream.

"The high lasts nothing, I'll just—you’ll stop me, right? If it hurts. Or if anything, really,” Hyunjin says, his voice warping, as he unclasps the vial from Changbin’s clenched fingers and puts it away. 

He kisses him. Changbin exhales soft breaths into his mouth, as a sweeping wave of heat expands from his chest. Hyunjin's tongue burns where it traces the line of his column. "…yeah?" Hyunjin says, too distant, a whisper, “or push me, whatever, I just…whatever you...”

Changbin’s heart races until it feels stationary, until all around him is drowned out by pillows that press him in, squeezing, compressing him into mouldable flesh. He’s viscous. "Relax…” Three fingers at his entrance—at once, coated in slick, stretching, and his muscles don’t object to it, on the contrary. It’s like there has always been something there filling him.

Changbin’s one with the sofa, his legs spreading, knees digging into the cushioning as Hyunjin holds him by his waist. Steam bubbles from wherever he touches him. The flared head of Hyunjin’s cock feels blunt against his rim. Changbin melts back into his chest like sinking into some fever-like colossal pool of warmth, like he’s a magnet pulling to himself all the heat from Hyunjin. All the heat from the room. "Yeah," he forces out, “fuck me,” his voice vapor, and Hyunjin slides further in him with a dragged-out sound. 

"I—" Changbin tries, but Hyunjin’s still pushing and everything else’s ringing, but Hyunjin’s voice grounds him, and when Changbin opens his eyes, Hyunjin's own are shining, electric, and he’s towering over him. Changbin shudders, his cock bobbing against his own abdomen as he curls his hips onto Hyunjin’s to feel him, to feel it deeper.

“Calm, baby.” Hyunjin halts. “You’re gonna hurt yourself like this.” He stills Changbin’s body with a strong grip around his waist. He kisses Changbin’s lobule, then kisses his lips softly, and Changbin sinks further when he tightens around him. 

“You’re here with me?” Hyunjin chuckles, puffs of air warm on his skin.

Changbin should kick him. “Still here,” he says. His hole clenches around him. 

Hyunjin moans. “Good, yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Very.

“Can I fuck you? Or does it h—"

“ _Please.”_ Changbin wets his lips. His thighs part wider, burning with the stretch when Hyunjin shifts inside him, as he holds him still and slides in until his hipbones are flush with Changbin’s ass. “Fuck me,” he says weakly, Hyunjin supporting his weight.

When Hyunjin starts fucking him, Changbin’s vision swims out of focus, it darkens, then he’s on his elbows, and Hyunjin’s behind him supporting his fall. “Still with me?”

“Mmhm.”

“I’m gonna fuck you, okay?” Hyunjin’s voice is distorted by effort.

Changbin nods.

Hyunjin's hips snap harder and Changbin grasps the upholstery, elbows scratching the cashmere, biting air, mouth open. His thighs slip farther apart as Hyunjin forces him face-down and he falls forward, boneless, clenching around his cock again, and again Hyunjin thrusts deep, stretching, and Changbin groans when firm fingers yank him up by his hair and now he can _breathe._

His ears ring white and deafening, scalp raw where Hyunjin grips at it, flashing hot whilst he keeps him upright and says, "come _here._ " He hums, pulling Hyunjin deeper, and thumbs the dips of his hipbones as Hyunjin claws at his bicep and twists the roots of his hair.

"Touch yourself," Hyunjin mutters, and Changbin sure does so, throbbing, and Hyunjin thrusts harder, drumming soft breaths against his throat. 

His come's gonna stain--the couch is thumping against the wall, is shaking, and Changbin's cock is pulsing against his hand.

"Must reek of come in here," Changbin says.

"Guess what we can do about it."

Changbin gives a tired nod toward the door. “Open it?”

"Is it still rule breaking if it’s a duo?" Hyunjin eyes the blue Parliaments forgotten on the sound table. "You're the one who said it. Disobedience?”

Oh. "In here?" 

Hyunjin stumbles up to grab the pack and his lighter. When he settles back beside Changbin’s spent body, he throws an arm around his shoulders like they were teens on their first date or something. Hyunjin's back is straight like even _now_ he’s incapable of hunching. 

Changbin wants a bite of him, and so he takes it, nips at his throat just to leave a mark on his skin. Were it different circumstances, the mark would look dignified. Changbin murmurs, "let's just not mention it, if no one mentions it first." 

The lighter works on Hyunjin’s first try. "You know how they say the stuff we hide reveals the most about us." Hyunjin's head lolls sideways to him, his small eyes smiling.

"I won't _lie,_ I just won't mention it. That I smoked in the studio. I don’t know.”

"What if someone asks?"

"I'll change the subject," Changbin says. "Your hair _glows,_ you know that? You’re so fucking pretty it’s surreal.”

Hyunjin puffs a breath of smoke, then presses the filter to Changbin's lips so he’d take a drag. "Are you changing the subject?" 

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Changbin kisses him, then steals Hyunjin's cigarette from him. Takes a drag. Grabs Hyunjin’s thigh with his cigarette hand.

"I know it’s true.” Hyunjin laughs, parting his thighs. Then, he keeps quiet.

Changbin could get used to him.


End file.
